Men Like Him
by vasoline
Summary: A man like Dallas Winston was a disaster, Sylvia knew that, but she wasn't smart enough to stay away.


Song: The First of the Gang, Morrissey.

Reviews are always welcome! I'm not even sure what this story is even really about.

* * *

_was the first with a gun in his hand and a bullet in his gullet _

_and the first lost lad to go under the sod. _

Men like Dallas did not talk to girls like her. They did not stop their lives for one second to strike up the conversation with the likes of her. These types of men did not want real conversations or dates at the local diner. Men like Dallas Winston wanted sex and a thrill. So when his eye caught hers and he leaned up against the bar next to her, Sylvia had no idea what was going on. Men like this didn't want _her_. She was young and pure and plain. Everything men like him were not.

He talked to her about Broadway and Elvis, two things that did not fit together. He surprised her. She thought he was a dumb as a rock. He knew a lot about things and he liked to state them smugly as if he knew people thought he was dumb and he was always just talking to prove them wrong. He mentioned she was pretty. Her cheeks got hot.

Two weeks later she had seen him again. She didn't think men like him appreciated movies much but then she remembered him drunkenly slurring to her this Broadway show he had seen. A man like him though, should be out causing trouble. Not watching Breakfast at Tiffany's. They locked eyes again. He winked. When she glanced over her shoulder again, he was making out with Diana Roy. Maybe there was a reason a man like him would come to a movie like this. Men like him always knew what they were doing.

The third time she saw Dallas Winston she was completely alone. She was walking home from work. The only light down the dark path was a dim, flickering street lamp. It made the darkness eerie more than anything. His voice came from behind her. Hi beautiful, he had said in that husky voice men like him always had. He didn't really mean what he was saying but she liked the way it rolled off his tongue. He walked her home that night. He had said it was dangerous for such a pretty young thing to be roaming the dark allies alone. He was probably right but she hoped there was another reason he was walking with her.

Three weeks after that he kissed her. It wasn't a simple kiss, it was one of those urgent, fierce kisses that you always see in movies. It was a heated kiss and it happened to be the first kiss of any kind she ever had. He wanted more, she could tell by his roaming hands. She expected that from a man like him. She shut him down. She was loving the attention he gave her but she had morals and no man like that was going to take it away from her as if it was nothing. She pushed him off. He said nothing. He got another beer.

He never kissed her again. She had to and she did. She quite liked the feeling it gave. It was warm, just like a shot of whiskey. She let him get him get a bit further this time. With a man like that, you couldn't just give nothing, they wanted more.

He gave her his ring. It was big and bulky and would never in a million years fit on any of her frail fingers. She went and bought a chain and wore it proudly around her neck. It was a surprise to her that he even considered her good enough to go steady.

Four days later she got told by Steve Randle that Dallas had gotten locked up. Steve had said he had stolen four packs of cigarettes and pack of bubblegum. Steve said he didn't understand that gum, Dallas hated that shit. Sylvia tried to hide her smirk. She had rambled on about her love for pink bubblegum. She had thought he wasn't listening, and she hadn't expected a man like that to anyway. He had listened.

Ruth Weatherly gossiped to the crowd at the Dingo about her sex life. Sylvia had never listened until now. She was bragging about her latest boy toy. She had caught Dallas Winston as he was being escorted out of the cooler. He had winked at her. She explained how they had went back to Bucks and talked. One thing led to another and they ended up in his room. Sylvia didn't want to hear anymore. She took her Coke and left.

She ended up at Bucks again. This time it wasn't Dallas leaning up against the bar next to her; Tony Somers was there grinning. Tony was awkward and he made bad jokes. But he was the only male attention she was getting and when Dallas walked into the door she pulled him in for a kiss. It was sloppy and he tasted too strongly of beer.

She stood on her front porch, her arms were crossed tightly around her chest. Dallas was only about two feet from her. He was smoking a cigarette and his glare was deathly. He didn't utter a word, he just ripped her chain off her neck and walked off into the distance.

Tony had a thing for holding her hand; it made her uncomfortable, his hands were always sweaty and his grip was just a bit too tight. He liked kissing her in public, too. Sylvia wasn't for needy public displays of affection. She wasn't looking at Tony though, her eyes were locked with those blue ones eying her from across the room. She smiled at him and he smirked back.

He was simpering like he was up to something and knowing him, he most likely was. Again, they stood on her porch just mere feet away from each other. He had asked him why he was here and he never felt the need to reply; he had just kissed her up against the wall of her house. It was every bit as fierce as their first. The light flicked on overhead but neither of them bothered to stop. Her front door swung open and they were pulled apart by her mother. He had left her chain on the stair. She watched him walk away; men like him just didn't make sense.

Tony didn't take it well, she wouldn't have been all too surprised if he had cried. When she told Dallas that he had laughed. That night, Dallas brought her to the Curtis's. The group was rowdy but Sylvia could see why Dallas would like such a crowd; they were a family and the way Mrs. Curtis treated him made her feel warm. She wondered about Dallas's real mom.

Dallas had invited her to the drive-in and had left her half way into the movie to run off with Tim Shepard. She sat up front in the seats, now car-less. She was angry and he was bound to get an earful from her. If Sandy Campbell never offered to sit with her, she would have ran after him. Instead she ended up watching two dumb beach movies with a girl she had just met.

The next time she had saw Dallas it was almost a week later. He was the closest thing to crying Sylvia had ever seen so she couldn't muster up any anger. Her mother was out and would be all night, so she let him into the house. He was a wreck. His speech was almost incoherent but she managed to pick out. Accident. The Curtis's. Dead. He kissed her and she had felt one hot tear of his on her cheek. He kissed her again and she let him get as far as he wanted that night.

Dallas got locked up again. She hadn't a clue why, but it was for a long time. Nine months, exactly. She was going to go crazy. She wondered what it was like in there. She had heard stories and even for a guy as tough as Dallas, it must be rough. She wanted to go visit him but she didn't. She figured it would ruin his reputation or something. So she just waited.

Four months before Dallas got out Tim Shepard hit on her. He was like Dallas but he wasn't. Dallas was reckless but with Tim everything seemed planned; even the cheap line he gave her. She conned him into buying her a couple drinks but never let him take her home. He had been pissed but with her buzz she didn't care. She got a cab home. Dallas's ring was hanging proudly from her neck.

Two months before Dallas got home Tim hit on her again. He told her that he didn't take no for an answer. Her answer this time had been an eye roll and she left him standing against the wall to go dance with Sandy. She had been getting lonely just as Tim had said but not lonely enough for him.

Tim Shepard did not like rejection. Everywhere she went she heard the lies Tim spread. She was sure all of Tulsa thought she had slept with him and Dallas knew the second he was a free man again. He didn't ask questions, just like he hadn't last time. The chain left her neck again. This time with a slight burn. It stung as he walked away. She was so angry but no words escaped her lips.

He was wrapped around Linda Evans. Linda was gorgeous with big brown eyes and raven hair all the way down her back. Sylvia had never had a problem with Linda until now; the way she was touching him made her feel almost violent and crazy. She tried to be confident: she was in Dallas's favorite red dress and she had spent hours on her hair. There was no doubt in her mind that she looked good tonight, and she knew that Dallas would be watching. But as she strutted past the two to dance with Will Saunders, she couldn't help but drop a snide comment. Dallas had just chuckled, her cheeks flushed. She was too easily strung up and he knew exactly how to do it.

The room was dusty and the couch they were on smelled of stale cigarettes. The room made her itchy and uncomfortable. It was the least romantic place she had ever been but Will did not seem to notice as he was kissing down her neck. She went along with it. This is why she had come to his party for after all- but now it didn't make her feel too good. He was too gentle, like she would break at the slightest touch. He asked her to stay but she picked up her dress and didn't look back. She felt disgusting, she didn't feel anything for Will but she had seen Dallas with Linda. She was pathetic but men like Dallas Winston stuck with you.

_You look fine tonight_, he had told her. She had ignored it. She had to stop this, he wouldn't even hear her out before ripping his ring from her. They did not have a stable relationship. She should not want him, it was toxic. She continued to wait tables, hoping he would leave. He didn't. Dallas sat at the counter and ordered a Pepsi. _Come with me_, he said once her shift was over. She followed him like a lost puppy out the door.

He brought her to the make-out point. She told him that she didn't sleep with Shepard, he told her he knew that all along, he just couldn't have his reputation damaged. She was an idiot, she should have asked him to take her home that second- she was less important than his tough reputation. Sylvia stayed, though. They made out to Jimi Hendrix. He slipped the cold chain over her once again and like always she accepted it. She couldn't give him up.

Fighting. They were constantly fighting. Dallas was controlling but yet he could do as he pleased and she hated him for it. She was yelling at him at Bucks and he blew her off and stomped up stairs. When she caught sight of him again he was running of with Johnny Cade and Pony Curtis. She should not have expected anything from a man like him.

She had danced with Steve but he hadn't meant a thing, Dallas thought otherwise once he got back. He didn't rip the ring away this time, he had said he was too exhausted, she was too. Sylvia asked where he had been; he didn't reply. She rolled her eyes and reached into his nightstand for a cigarette. She only took two puffs before passing it to Dallas. She hadn't been much of a smoker before, but really she hadn't been much of anything before him. She had been pure and plain. She had been what men like him didn't want. Now she was sexy and could be quite the thrill.

He told her he was going on a trip, she asked where and he never replied, she had expected that. He left in Buck's Thunderbird an hour later. She got a phone call later, he said it was in the hospital. He said he was okay but if she wanted she could come see him. Sylvia went to the hospital the next day. He wasn't bad, he talked to her about a rumble. Johnny was bad and she knew that was tearing Dallas up inside. She didn't mention it, though. She kept her mouth shut and let him carry on chatting about the rumble. Men like Dallas didn't like facing their problems.

The phone was ringing on her bed table, she had just fallen asleep. She let the phone ring. It stopped but not even a minute later it started up again. She heard her mother's footsteps bad down the stairs. Seconds later, she heard her name being called. She sleepily picked up the phone. _Dal's dead_, Steve told her. She hung up the phone without uttering a word to him. She couldn't figure out anything worth saying.

"Delinquent Turned Hero Shot Down by the Cops" she read in the paper the next day. He was smirking in the photo they put up of him; this didn't feel real. Men like Dallas Winston were supposed to go out with a bang, it was to be expected. She wondered if she was the only one weeping over him.

They had a funeral for them, both of them. Johnny Cade had passed that night too. Sylvia had pitched in as much as she could. The group had taken it begrudgingly, none of them seemed to have taken a liking to her other than Steve.

She had almost made it through the whole ceremony without crying; they put his body in the ground and Two-Bit Mathews started to cry. She had never seen that guy without a cheesy joke and a smile. She left then, she didn't even wait for the priest to stop. At this point she was gripping his ring so hard to keep from sobbing, she knew her fingers would soon bleed. She got up and walked as fast as she could out of there.

A man like Dallas Winston would not be easily gotten over- but she was trying, trying like hell.

_He stole from the rich and the poor_

_and the very rich and the very poor,_

_and he stole all the hearts away._


End file.
